Misery filled our lungs long before you, But then you came guns blazing and tear gas popping Shooting us, shouting , we come in peace, we come in love Fuck you and fuck your guns, I will be ready to die before you can even count to ten But how will you know, who I am, When I wash up already dead on The door of my own house, My million fragmented dreams Seeping out of my skin, the last wisps my mortal soul escaping with only Dreams I ever had You will build tombs of your victory Over the ruins of my house, In Gaza, in Damascus and in Srinagar I will be long dead, but even in My grave I shall claw at the foundations Of your houses, that you build over My playgrounds I will whisper the guilt into your ears Long after last band has gone home, Scratch my history into your very skin Right where your sins grafted into mine and my half dead will loom in your family portraits haunting you till the very en...